


Step 5: I Need To Run Dry

by emeraldcitydowntowngirl



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, also that one young volcanoes lyric, and they yell and cry, patrick shows up at pete's house drunk, soul punk!patrick, well i mean i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 19:38:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5218241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldcitydowntowngirl/pseuds/emeraldcitydowntowngirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You motherfucker, I have some… I have some things I need to get off my fucking chest before it’s too late” Patrick grips the door-frame, and Pete wants to laugh at how pathetic Patrick looks right now, the buttons on his shirt in the wrong places, but he freezes, and his heart drops to his stomach. He wasn't expecting this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Step 5: I Need To Run Dry

**Author's Note:**

> sorry 4 the suffer! i guess! im just clearing my computer of all these drafts :/

Pete usually doesn’t answer the door at 2 o’clock in the morning because no one knocks on his door at 2 o’clock in the morning unless they call first. And he doesn’t want to get the door, and wants to ignore it, but the knocking doesn’t stop, so he curses and gets out of bed. He slips on a battered up tee-shirt and makes his way down the steps and looks through the peep-hole, and he almost turns around on his heel to walk away to go back to bed.

It’s Patrick. A very skinny and blond Patrick. Patrick who he hasn’t had a full conversation with in what… 2 years?

But something in his head screams at him “It’s Patrick! Open the door! You need him! You need him!” and he doesn’t ignore the voices in his head anymore, he figures they're right, so he opens the door 

“Pat-“

Patrick’s lips are red and slightly swollen and his neck is covered in… hickies. Well, Pete thinks, it’s nice that Patrick’s getting around. It’s not nice that he hasn’t called him 2009, but that’s another story. He smells kinda horrible- like expensive whiskey but too much expensive whiskey, but he still smells like Patrick, all cinnamon and coffee and kind of like sweat but in the best way possible. The smell is strong, and it wakes Pete up immediately

“You fucker” Patrick half-yells, half-slurs at him, his eyes meeting Pete’s for the first time since 2009, and his eyes are clouded over and glassy but they’re still so blue. Pete hates the color blue, it only reminds him of what he lost, but just in a second, Pete doesn’t want to see any color but blue.

“You motherfucker, I have some… I have some things I need to get off my fucking chest before it’s too late” Patrick grips the door-frame, and Pete wants to laugh at how pathetic Patrick looks right now, the buttons on his shirt in the wrong places, but he freezes, and his heart drops to his stomach. He wasn't expecting this.

“You’re drunk, I-“

“I’m not drunk! You’re drunk! You fucker!” Patrick’s vocabulary is obviously severed. He runs a hand (a hand covered by fingerless gloves- it shouldn’t be hot, oh god, it shouldn’t be hot. But Pete gulps and pushes those thoughts at the back of his head for another time) through his bleach blond hair (What an ugly color, Pete thinks in his head, because he’s used to greasy strawberry blond hair on Patrick, not this beautiful, artificial blond Patrick pulls off so fucking well anyways)

“You ruined my fucking life. You… You and your stupid fucking lyrics. Do you know what they say about me?” Patrick laughs, stepping in the house, just to crowd Pete in further. How Patrick got here, he doesn't want to know. He can hardly think.

Pete doesn’t say anything back, just stares at what’s happening before his eyes. Maybe this is a dream, and maybe Pete will wake up from this nightmare. But he can smell Patrick’s foul breath and he can feel when Patrick shoves him back, and starts yelling again, loud and angry, words laced with hate.

“They say… they say that I’m nothing without you. And I just wanna laugh in their fucking faces and tell them what a monster you are. You’re fucking poison” He’s yelling at him, but his eyes tell another story. He has these deep dark circles underneath them, and his eyes are bloodshot, and look... empty. When Pete used to look into Patrick's eyes, he saw the universe.

Of course Pete doesn’t notice the sadness in his eyes, can only hear Patrick screaming at him, his voice still so sweet and sing-songy, and he can feel his heart racing. He wants to throw up.

“But-“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Patrick swings at him, but he’s so drunk he misses completely, and almost falls to the ground. Really… it’s pathetic. But Pete’s hands are shaking and he feels like he’s going to burst into tears. He misses Patrick so much, and now he’s here, and even if Patrick’s cursing at him and is drunk off his ass, Pete wants him to stay and never leave. Any Patrick is better than no Patrick, he decides.

“The kids, the fucking kids, they come to shows and ask about you. You fucking attention whore, it always has to be about you, huh? Always about Pete” He mocks, getting impossibly close to Pete’s face. What Pete would do to kiss him, even like this. Even when Patrick is being cruel and yelling at him. Pete guesses it's because he hates himself --it'd make sense that the person he's so fucking in love with hates him too.

“You’re a monster! He’s telling the truth! You’re poison!” The voices in his head yell at him, and he only agrees with them. The proof is right in front of him- he ruins people.

“I’ll never be anything, thanks to you. Anything I ever fucking do will always be compared to fucking Fall Out Boy” Pete tries to remind himself that Patrick was part of it too, that Patrick was part of the problem too, but his brain only screams “He’s right! You ruined his life!” But Pete is tired of this, and without thinking, he blurts out

“If you didn’t fucking leave none of this would have happened! We could have worked something-“

“Work something out? With you? You always get what you want” Patrick shoves him against his kitchen counter and gets in his face again

“You always fucking get what you want, and I’m left with nothing”

Pete shouldn’t be arguing with someone drunk. He shouldn’t be arguing with Patrick because arguing with Patrick isn’t exactly going to get him back on good terms with him, isn't going to get the band back together, isn't going to get _them_ together.

“That’s not fucking true at all!” Pete sounds whiny, and Patrick laughs hard at that. It stings, how Patrick’s laugh is still so sweet and beautiful.

“Shut the hell up, Pete. You get everything. What do I get? Kids coming to my show to tell me that they liked me better fat. They like me better this, they like me better that. They’d like me better fucking dead, so I might as well give them something I can deliver, right?”

Patrick’s voice falters at the end, and Pete suddenly knows why Patrick is here and why Patrick is drunk off expensive whiskey and why Patrick just had sex, and his throat feels like it’s closing in.

“Patrick-“

“Don’t give me any of your fucking sympathy. I hope you live a horrible life” Patrick’s no longer shouting, and his words have no punch. He has this look in his eyes that Pete knows all too well, remembers seeing it in his eyes in the car mirror in the Best Buy parking lot how many years ago 

They’re standing in silence. Pete only now notices how fragile Patrick looks, skinny and small, how exhausted and tired, and sad he looks. He’s heard Patrick’s album, knows that he’s angry at the world, and if Patrick is anything like Pete, his lyrics are personal too. He's listened to "Run Dry". People don't write songs like "Run Dry" if they have a good relationship with alcohol. 

“Stay the night, please” He says once it gets too quiet. They were once able to share a comfortable silence, but now everything is so tense. Patrick scoffs.

“I don’t even know why I’m here. I’m leaving”

“How are you gonna get home, huh?”

“I’ll drive. I drove the way over” Patrick laughs, and suddenly his laugh is the worst sound Pete’s ever heard in the world. He can't laugh about this, act like this is so casual.

Patrick drove over. God, Pete thinks, Patrick is so fucked up. Patrick is so fucking selfish. The voices taunt him "He learned it from you"

“You’re not driving home-"

“You’re not my boss anymore, Pete! I don’t wanna fucking impress you anymore, you don’t have any control over me” Pete raises his eyebrow, and snatches Patrick’s car keys from his jacket pocket. Drunk people are so stupid. So, so stupid.

“Give that back, asshole! I’ll call the fucking cops!”

“You’ll call the cops and tell them you wanna drive home? Just let me get you into bed, then you can call the cops on me in the morning and tell me off all you want, I promise"

Patrick sits on the bar stool, and stares at the floor, probably thinking about what to say, how to get himself out of this situation. Pete doesn't know.

“You always do this” Pete barely hears him, but he hears it anyways.

“You always have to win. You always have to have the last word” Patrick finally sounds tired out, and Pete lets out a breath he didnt know he was holding.

“It’s not about winning, it’s more like I don’t want you fucking dying in some car accident on your way home because you had to curse me out at 2 in the morning”

“What if I wanna die?” He sounds so small now, a contrast from what, 10 minutes ago? Pete feels his stomach drop again, and he runs his hands down his face. He can’t do this. Not now, and not with Patrick.

“You don’t want to die, Patrick"

“You don’t know me anymore. You don’t know how I feel” Patrick snaps at him.

“Well, I know that you have a lot to live for” Pete starts, before Patrick laughs again.

“I have nothing. I have fans who say that that I'm useless now” He laughs a little after that, and Pete really wishes he would stop doing that.

“I’m sure-“

“They don’t actually say it, but god it’s like, I know what you’re gonna say, make it easy, say I never…” Patrick’s voice gets thick, and Pete knows what’s happening next. When Patrick gets drunk, he’s always so cheerful, but he gets so insecure as well, using humor to mask everything

“…mattered” A tear falls from his cheeks, and in the blink of an eye, Patrick is hysterically crying.

Pete has to look away, like he’s going to be sick. He can’t do this, he can’t do this, he can’t do this, Patrick, his Patrick, is sobbing in front of him at 2:30 in the morning, and he can’t handle any of this.

“I just… fuck! Fuck, I want to die, I just want to die. My career is shit, no one comes to shows anymore, I blew all my money on a project that no one fucking appreciates, I don’t have Elisa anymore, no one would miss me-“

"Bullshit! Do you hear yourself when you talk?" Pete wants to cry just looking at Patrick. His best friend (former best friend?) he'd take a bullet for, would take a bullet for is so drunk and is sobbing into his leather fingerless gloves, and Patrick was never the one to act like this, Pete was always the one running around with 1000 problems, and Patrick consoling him, not the other way around

"Patrick. Please. You have so much to live for. I know I'm the last person you want to-"

"I lied" Patrick wipes his face with his gloves, but the tears keep streaming down anyways

"I don't hate you, Pete. I hate that... I just miss you and you never tell me anything anymore. You don't even... fuck" He pauses to take a breath, but it comes out almost like a gasp. Like he's choking on his words. Pete ignores it because if he doesn't he'll just start crying too. This is not how he envisioned his night going.

"Hey, you could have talked to me too, Patrick" He says softly, because he felt abandoned too, but Patrick's too wasted to think about Pete, and Pete understands that. Just as how Pete hates being wrong, Patrick does too.

"You didn't even tell me about the divorce. You opened up to Joe and Andy but you didn't say a word to me, I don't even matter"

Yeah, Pete thinks in his head, because he totally could have told Patrick the reason why he had to get a divorce was because he was in love with him and was too fucked up from the band breaking up and from them not talking anymore to even be a proper husband. But he doesn't say that.

"You matter to me, you don't even know Patrick, you mean so much to me. You fucking mean the world to me-"

"Don't say things you don't mean" Patrick looks down at his shaking hands, and Pete takes holdings them in his hands, and seriously if Patrick doesn't get Pete's so hopelessly in love with him already, this should clear things up. But he keeps forgetting that Patrick is drunk and doesn't know what he's saying probably and Pete doesn't know what's worse

"Trick-"

Patrick bites his lip at the nickname

"I.... I'm usually good with words. But fuck, I don't know what I'm doing right now... I just-"

Patrick’s hands start shaking again, and Pete holds them tighter and shakes his head, as if he could will words out of them. Honestly, Pete doesn’t know what to do

“I’m so tired” Patrick hiccups, and Pete nods.

“Let me get you to bed” Patrick makes a protesting noise, and looks back to Pete and Pete can feel his heart clench. Patrick’s face is wet and his eyes are so wide and filled with tears, and his lip is quivering.

“I hate that I always run back to you. I hate that… you’re the only person I have left” That’s not particularly true, and the both of them know that, but Patrick says it anyways because he hates himself and hates that although he has many people to turn to, he chooses goddamn _Pete._

“Please, Trick. Let me get you to bed. You can leave in the morning, I don’t care. Just sleep it off” Patrick sniffs, and nods “Alright…”

And Pete helps Patrick to the guest bedroom, and gets him a glass of water and some Advil for the morning. And when Patrick finally falls asleep, Pete tries not to give into everything he’s ever wanted and lie next to him, so he just goes into his room and hugs his body in an attempt to go to sleep so he won’t have to hear Patrick leave in the morning, leave _him_ in the morning.

But the next day, when Pete comes down to get something to drink, he finds Patrick at his dining room table, leafing through some lyrics that are written for him, for Fall Out Boy, and Pete decides everything is going to be okay, even if that's going to take some time


End file.
